


Gone Fishing

by orphan_account



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Boys Kissing, Brian May - Freeform, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff, Freddie Mercury - Freeform, Frian, Gay, Go Fish, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I write too much fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Queen - Freeform, brian makes a ur mom joke, did i mention that brian makes a ur mom joke, gotta write some angst soon, maycury, sorry - Freeform, the writing style for this is weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 08:29:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Weshuplayguhfishh," Freddie said. He placed his drink on the floor of his apartment beside him and leaned over his crossed legs."Huh?" Brian asked, also sitting on the floor with his back against the couch."I said," he picked up his glass and took another sip from it, some of the liquid sloshing over the edges of his lips and down his chin, "we should play Go-Fish."





	Gone Fishing

**Author's Note:**

> "me: don't write slash don't write slash don't write slash don't write slash don't write slash  
> don't write slash don't write slashdon't write slash don't write slash don't write slash
> 
> me: *writes slash*
> 
> also this is written really weirdly i'm s orry? my usual writing style is being a bitch rn if that makes any sense.
> 
> anyway enjoy,,, whatever this is. idk, it’s short and cute and i kinda like it?

(Floaty. 

That's how Brian felt, face smushed into the leather seat of the cab, too sleepy to sit up straight but too energetic to close his eyes. 

Freddie stifled a giggle to Brian's left. He was always a happy drunk. Maybe too happy, he mused as he watched Freddie continue giggling over something only prevalent in his intoxicated brain. Light streamed overhead from the street lamps through the windows and cast shadows across Freddie's face. His cheekbones stood even more prominent than usual against the cutting shadows. 

No, happy Freddie was a good thing, Brian decided. A gorgeous, ethereal thing. 

Crafted from the Gods.)

"Weshuplayguhfishh," Freddie said. He placed his drink on the floor of his apartment beside him and leaned over his crossed legs. 

"Huh?" Brian asked, also sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. 

"I said," he picked up his glass and took another sip from it, some of the liquid sloshing over the edges of his lips and down his chin, "we should play Go-Fish."

"What, is that the best card game you can think of?"

Freddie rolled his eyes, "It's a classic. We have to play."

"Your mother's a classic but we don't play with her."

He huffed in faux offense, "Brian May, don't speak about my mum like that!" 

But Freddie could only keep up the playful facade for so long, and before he knew it his face was betraying him, breaking into a fit of laughter. He wasn't even sure _why_. Something to do with the fact that he was drunk off his tits and that _Brian_ of all people was making obscurely sexual comments about his mother. 

It took him a while to finally calm down, long enough that he forgot what was funny in the first place. He glanced up at Brian, who was just staring at him with a curious intensity in his eyes. 

"What?" Freddie hiccuped through one last giggle. 

Brian shook his head, "Sorry. 'M just... so fucking drunk." Which was true, he really was, but he still had enough sense in him to not mention the flaring heat that lit up beneath his body when Freddie started laughing. The way that it roared so intensely when he didn't even bother to cover his teeth that Brian could feel the blood start to bubble in his veins. How when he bent forwards (so, so close to Brian) with the force of his laughs that the world flashed red in front of his eyes and all he could feel was wantwantwant. 

It was a bittersweet experience, hanging out with Freddie. Because he was there, so close and in reach, but also not close enough. He would never be close enough in the way that Brian wanted. It was like catching a fish on a line only for it to let go. The feeling of triumph when the bobber goes underwater and then the disappointment when you reel the line in only to find nothing. 

"Me too. Let's play Go-Fish," repeated Freddie as he leaned back against the ottoman, lead lolling lazily against his shoulder and legs spreading slightly. His body caught perfectly in the artificial light from the lamp beside him. 

Brian sighed. He was a goner. 

"Fine, but you're getting the cards."

"Yay!" Freddie clapped his hands together. He pushed himself to his feet and swayed towards the kitchen. 

"Don't know which drawer I put the blasted things..." he murmured to himself as he opened each cabinet. He found the right one on the last try and hurried back, dropping the cards on the area of carpet between them. Freddie presses his socked toes against Brian's knees, folded criss-cross applesauce, and Brian couldn't tell if the small wave of nausea he felt was from the butterflies or the drinks in his belly.

"Is it five or seven?"

"What?" asked Brian. 

Freddie gestured to the stack of cards, "Do we deal out five or seven cards to start? I can never remember."

He shrugged, curly brown hair bouncing with his shoulders, "I dunno. Does it matter?"

"I dunno," Freddie repeated. He glanced up at Brian from his slouched position through his half lidded eyelashes, a goofy grin dawning his face. He clumsily grabbed for the cards and began dishing them out. One to himself, one to Brian. Another to himself, another one to Brian.

They ended up with seven cards each. 

"Brian," Freddie said—no, _drawled_. A smooth, deep sound emitting from his throat. In a way that would've sounded almost _naughty_ , if it weren't for the fact that they were playing a cards game for children. "Got any fours?"

Brian searched through his cards. He had to concentrate for a few seconds longer than usual for his brain to comprehend the shapes in front of him. "Uhhhh... no. Go fish."

Freddie pouted, snatching up a card from the center and tucking it into a spot near the center of his draw. It was probably a 6 or 7, Brian knew that he always organized his cards in order.

He cleared his throat, "Got any Kings?"

"Fuck!" Freddie exclaimed, handing over two kings.

They played quite a few more rounds, Brian getting eight decks and Freddie only two. 

"If I knew I was going to be so good at this game, I would've suggested we played sooner," Brian gloated, for no other reason other than to get a rise out of Fred.

"Oh, don't get all full of yourself. It's just a game of chance."

He leaned forward with a smug grin."You just don't want to admit that I'm better than you."

"It's _chance_."

"It's _me_ being fucking great at Go-Fish."

And suddenly Freddie was close. Closer to Brian than he was before, and there was that familiar tug of wantwantwant flaring throughout his body. He could count every pore on Freddie's cheek, every freckle that dotted his nose even though it was the middle of December and Freddie didn't have freckles in the winter.

It was too much, too much to let slip away yet again like sand between his fingers. 

Brian leaned closer, but it was Freddie who officially connected their lips together, neither delicate nor rough; sloppy because of how drunk they were. Not heated, but not entirely innocent either. 

It took him a few moments to process what was happening, Freddie's lips were bigger than his own and his stubble scratched his chin and neck in a way that shouldn't have felt good but it _did_ because it was _Freddie._

(And Brian didn't remember a time when kissing felt so natural.)

Much too soon, he pulled away, leaving Brian chasing after his mouth to remain connected to him. It made Freddie laugh a bit, but he ultimately pushed him away and sat back down. 

For a long, tense moment, neither of them said anything, letting their breathing do the talking. 

"Do you have any queens?" Freddie asked, glancing at the cards still in Brian's hands. 

Brian's mouth parted slightly, "How did you—? Fine, take the bloody cards." He handed over the three queens he had collected, successfully completing Freddie's deck. 

He raised the four cards victoriously, poised between his delicate fingers, and slapped them down on top of his other decks. "I get another go! Got any sixes?"

Brian grumbled and banded over two of them, completing another deck of Freddie's. 

"What about eights?"

"Okay, this is bullshit!" Brian exclaimed as he extracted his eights from his draw. "How the hell did you know all of this?"

Freddie smirked playfully and raised a finger to his lips, "I may have snuck a peek or two while you were snogging me."

He gasped in disbelief, "Freddie, you bastard! I can't believe you fucking cheated! And for the record, _you_ were the one snogging me first—" He stopped when he noticed that Freddie was shaking with silent giggles. 

"It's so easy to get you worked up, dear," Freddie presses a kiss to Brian's forehead. He pushed himself to his feet and made a beeline towards the doorway. 

Brian blinked. "Where-Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom, don't worry yourself sick." He called over his shoulder with a dismissive wave of his hand, seconds before walking directly into the doorframe. Brian snorted loudly. Freddie grumbled, rubbing at his injured head, and flipped him off in reply.

"Fuck you," he said. 

"Jus' try not to kill yourself while taking a piss."

The sound of Freddie's footsteps echoed down the silent hallway. Brian waited until he heard the bathroom door click shut before he slumped back and let out a long breath. 

He had just _kissed_ Freddie Mercury. 

And the world wasn't ending. 

Earth did not flip upside down on its axis, blood did not start pouring from the sky. There was no epic fight that would end their friendship that occurred every time after Brian would start thinking about Freddie. What it would be like to grab him by the shirt after a show and kiss all of the adrenaline away. And then Freddie would push him back, ask him what the _hell_ Brian thought he was doing. Shout at him, or even worse, explain that he was _sorry_ but he _just didn't like Brian in that way._

Freddie returned not long after. He met Brian's eyes in the doorway and stopped short, mouth slightly parted and blush still high on his neck and cheekbones. After a moment he looked down bashfully and hurried back to the floor. He was biting the inside of his cheek, the way he always did when he was trying not to smile. 

Brian didn't have to worry.

He'd reeled Freddie in.


End file.
